


In Which Lydia Has an Idea

by streetprince



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Multi, PWP, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 15:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/streetprince/pseuds/streetprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Lydia Martin is a smart girl. Actually, she’s brilliant, and gender has nothing to do with it. The idea in question comes to her the way she hopes mathematical formulas will come to her, a Eureka! moment. </i>
</p>
<p>Shameless PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Lydia Has an Idea

Lydia Martin is a smart girl. Actually, she’s brilliant, and gender has nothing to do with it. The idea in question comes to her the way she hopes mathematical formulas will come to her, a Eureka! moment. Jackson is bullying Stiles, shoving him around, getting in his face, and a little thought jumps into her brain. “An awful lot like the way kindergarten boys tease the girls they like.” Not to say that Jackson’s bullying is harmless, which is why she gets in the way and gives him a stern look. Not for Stiles, really – it’s the principle of the thing. 

But the idea has been planted. 

Lydia knows how Stiles looks at her. The kid is subtle as a hand grenade, the way he watches her like she’s water in a desert, color for a blind man, the sky for somebody who’s been locked up underground for twenty years. She’s honestly surprised Stiles has the attention span to crush on her this hard, but that’s not really the point. Stiles himself is more interesting than she expected him to be. And he worships her like his personal Isis.

The rest turns out to be a matter of an empty house, and a few subtle suggestions. Boys are so easy. 

 

Lydia’s quick fingers stroke along Jackson’s shaft, tugs at his balls, as she nibbles his neck and whispers what sounds like sweet nothings. But Stiles can hear her, murmuring, ”You want him under your power? It's so much more satisfying this way. Feel how hard you are just from watching me fuck him with my fingers?” At this point, Jackson takes little convincing before Lydia has his cock bumping against Stiles’ ass. Jackson lets out a soft pant of breath at first contact, and Stiles tilts his pelvis back involuntarily. He turns to watch over his shoulder. 

Lydia lines them up, smiling her inscrutable, dimpled smile, and Jackson presses forward. The first inch is a surprise, but not a bad one. Stiles has only ever had fingers up there. Lydia never let Jackson fuck her this way. They both gasp in delight. Lydia guides him in slowly, and stiles just feels hungry. A twinge, eased by copious amount of lube. And then the last, quick thrust, until Jackson is seated up to the hilt. He falls across Stiles’ back, panting. “Hush,” whispers Lydia, her hands on both of them, gentling them. 

Stiles’ watches her kiss Jackson, and then she leans down, and her lips ghost across his. Her tongue spreads his lips, and she slips it inside, exploring gently through his mouth. Stiles feels ready to go nuts, to burst, Jackson’s throbbing cock buried deep and still in one end and Lydia’s careful tongue probing his mouth, until Lydia leans back and nods, and Jackson starts rocking his hips. 

Lydia scoots back on the bed and spreads her legs, looking mysterious and mischievous. Stiles can’t get enough of that smile, as much as the pale, bare skin, her hair loose over her shoulders. Her foreign yet familiar sex in front of him. Stiles can smell her, and never anticipated the smell could intoxicate him like this. Thick and sharp, sour and musky, the scent hits him deep in his groin. He licks his lips, and she nods. That’s all it takes. 

He knows what oral looks like in porn, and while he isn’t sure he isn’t having a pornographic wet dream right now, he also knows the porn’s wrong. He licks her first, from top to bottom, then circles his tongue over the nub at the top, seeking her gasps and moans. Jackson’s thrusts become more deliberate. Stiles gasps into Lydia, then buries his face in her, his tongue thrusting into her slippery passage, nearly screaming. She rocks her hips up to meet him, moaning. 

With each of Jackson’s slow, deliberate thrusts, he pushes Stiles’ whole body. Stiles can feel him all the way through, and he moans into Lydia, thrusting his tongue, and she squirms and gasps, until at last she puts a hand on his cheek to stop him. 

Stiles can feel Jackson and Lydia making eye contact above him, and Jackson’s hands tighten on Stiles hips for one harder, penetrating thrust. “Stiles, you’re going to fuck me. Would you like that?” Stiles nods helplessly. 

“Yeah, yeah that would be…god you’re beautiful, you’re both beautiful.”

“Shh.” Lydia leaves the bed. Stiles waits, shivering in anticipation, as Jackson continues to take him apart with slow, careful thrusts. He doesn’t know how Jackson has the patience. Lydia returns, and they have to stop momentarily to put a condom on him, to change positions, the waiting an exquisite torture. 

Then there Lydia is under him, nibbling his neck and guiding him to bump against her. She rubs the head of his penis up and down, sighing, and then presses him inside. They both let out breaths of relief, and then Jackson is kissing her frantically over his shoulder and Stiles tries to imitate Jackson’s former careful thrusting. She’s so hot inside, slippery and hot, her muscles moving against his cock. But never say Stiles isn’t a quick learner. 

Lydia’s lips claim his, then. Jackson moves behind him, hands on his flank like a horse to keep from spooking him. Only then does he realize what Lydia designed all along. He holds still. This is quite possibly the happiest moment of his entire life. 

Jackson’s length pushes back inside of him, even as the boy’s hands grip his chest, rubbing up and down the length of it, and Jackson’s teeth sink into his neck. Stiles moans, careless, the feeling vibrating his chest, tearing through him. Lydia grips him tight from beneath, as Jackson pushes into him, inexorably, in, then out, then in. Each thrust in is like a punch that caries him further into Lydia. 

The three of them begin to work up a rhythm, and then it’s frantic, each only holding onto the others and panting. Caught between their two hard, gorgeous bodies, Stiles comes apart. 

Lydia gets herself off with clever fingers, her left hand braced on Stiles’ neck. _Fuck fuck fuck fuck me ohhhh._ Jackson hits the right parts inside him, rhythm stuttering. Stiles wouldn’t have believed how hot it would feel just to have his hips gripped firm by two strong hands. He’s coming, he’s seeing stars. 

Somewhere in the panting, sweaty, glorious aftermath, Stiles looks over at Lydia. She glows like a post-coital goddess. His nostrils are still filled with her scent, and Jackson’s, and his own, a heady mélange. “Lydia,” he whispers. Jackson snores softly. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re kind of brilliant.”

“Only kind of?”

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't even pretend I cared about writing plot. Enjoy ;)
> 
> Also, I proofread, but I wouldn't mind being told if I missed something since I didn't bother with a beta.


End file.
